Legends of NBA Style: The GQ+A with Walt Frazier

So when Carly Simon released "You're So Vain" in 1972, are we sure she wasn't referring to Knicks legend Walt "Clyde" Frazier? The original NBA fashion icon—first NBA player to make the fashion magazines, first NBA player to drive a Rolls Royce—is a more plausible answer than David Geffen, right? Check out the YouTube footage: he brought the ball upcourt like he was walking onto a yacht. And there's gotta be evidence of Clyde wearing an apricot scarf somewhere. Anyway, Clyde landed his sartorial nickname when he started wearing wide brimmed Borsalinos on the same week Carly's old flame Warren Beatty dropped his gangster classic Bonnie and Clyde in 1967. Since then he's won two NBA championships, spit rhymes as the Knicks colorman alongside Mike Breen, and opened a restaurant in New York's Hells Kitchen. We caught up with #10 at Clyde Frazier's Wine and Dine on 10th Ave (the fur wallpaper!) to talk about lapel width, blue suede Ponys and the white walls on his Rolls.

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GQ: You came from Atlanta and had eight siblings. When did you start caring about clothes?

Walt Frazier: Well, see, it started out early. My dad was a good dresser. So I remember as a kid admiring his clothes, trying to wear them when he wasn't around.

GQ: Did he wear suits?

Walt Frazier: No, never wore suits too much. But he was very creative. Like, he used to wear overalls but the way he wore them was very sexylike.

GQ: Sexy overalls? What was the scene in Atlanta like?

Walt Frazier: Nobody had any money. But when you went to church, people look nice. When you went downtown, you were taught that you were not only representing your family but your race.

GQ: Was it preppy?

Walt Frazier: Yeah. Our flash was making some tailor-made pants with no back pockets. They cost like $25 dollars. That was a big deal if you could do that.

GQ: I remember playing basketball in school and it was exciting when the new season's uniform came out.

Walt Frazier: Oh, I remember in high school going home and trying the suit on. And in football we had two pair of socks. You ever heard of Lenny Moore? Played for the Baltimore Colts. He used to wear spats. So he was the guy that we always tried to dress like him. He dressed so clean with the socks and the laces.

GQ: Your rookie season was in 1967. What was it like being in New York?

Walt Frazier: I didn't like New York. The hustle, the bustle. I didn't know where to go. And then it bothered me at night. I'd come home and park my car and the guy spun the wheels as he's taking it to park. Then I'm walking by people on the street—you don't know if they're dead or alive, man! And nobody seems to care. Man, this city, nobody cares, they tear up your car, they don't care about anything around here. Nobody's friendly. It was overwhelming. It took me a couple years.

GQ: Who calmed you down?

Walt Frazier: I started to meet guys who took me to nice places. I started learning my way around. My idol was Dick Barnett who was a very sharp dresser. He was a very flashy dresser, man. He had monogrammed cuffs on his shirts. Custom made suits. I found out where they got their shirts their suits their shoes.

GQ: Where did you go out?

Walt Frazier: Wilt's Smalls Paradise. 135th and 7th in Harlem.

GQ: Where were you living?

Walt Frazier: New Yorker Hotel. 33rd and 8th. But Harlem at the time, you could go anywhere in Harlem. You might see Coltrane, Les McCann. All these guys, playing for free.

GQ: Did you like jazz?

Walt Frazier: Not too much. When I'm out I like to rock. But you'd go to the lounges and these guys would just be right over there [points a couple feet away]. We didn't know we were witnessing history. I'd see Miles Davis sitting on his stoop. All these famous people with no bodyguards, nothing.

GQ: What did Harlem look like back then?

Walt Frazier: Sharp. Everybody's dicked. You ever see Harlem in the fifties and sixties? Everybody's dressed up. It's before drugs, man. It was nice. Fashionable.

GQ: So how much did you party in New York?

Walt Frazier: I was out every night. I didn't need a kitchen.

GQ: How do you manage your energy?

Walt Frazier: I'm out, but I'm not having sex. Some nights I'm just out to get numbers. Most of my sex was after Saturday night. We're off on Sunday and Monday.

GQ: So when did it become important for you to not just fit in, but to make a personal statement?

Walt Frazier: I first found out that I was an icon for blacks, say, like, we'd go to Detroit and after the game we're on the bus, and all the kids would go, Clyde, c'mon, man, where's the mink? Clyde, c'mon, man, we wanted to see you dressed up! That's when I realized that people were really into the way I was dressing. So that's when I went somewhere I made sure I was dressed up.

GQ: That's a budget issue as well.

Walt Frazier: Well, people think I pay a lot for my suits, but I don't. You know, you can get inexpensive clothes. Some guys are paying three, four thousand for a suit. I wouldn't do that. The tailor is the guy who makes the suit and fits it the way you want it to fit. So that shouldn't cost that much money.

GQ: Were sneakers a big deal in the 70s?

Walt Frazier: I was the first one to introduce a sneaker. The Puma Clyde. They came out with a suede shoe. The other shoes were canvas. It was blue suede with a white stripe. And even before that, when I wore my Converse, I had one orange string and one blue string in the sneakers. Nobody else was doing that.

GQ: And the "Clyde" thing—your nickname is a sartorial reference.

Walt Frazier: From the movie Bonnie and Clyde. What happened was, when I first started I wasn't playing well as a rookie. So to pacify myself I used to go shopping. So I would go out buy clothes, go to my room, dress up, and look in the mirror and say, Well, I ain't playing good but I still look good! And one day we were in Baltimore, and I'm looking in the window of a hat store. I see this Borsalino hat. Brown velour. But it has a wide rim. And like today, everybody then was wearing the narrow brim. But I never liked the narrow brim. So first time I wore the hat everybody laughed at me. My teammates. The guys on the other team. And I go hey, man, I look good in this hat, I'm going to keep it on. And as fate would have it, two weeks later Bonnie and Clyde comes out.

GQ: The newspapers started with the Clyde thing?

Walt Frazier: Yeah because I stole the ball on the court. And I dressed Clyde off the court.

GQ: Some guys get teased when they're in eighth grade and they never go out on a limb again. But some guys like to be instigators. They relish the teasing.

Walt Frazier: I was just being myself. I was like, Hey man, I like this hat. I like the Rolls Royce. I like the mink coats. Round bed. All of this stuff. I was just young and having fun in the greatest city in the world. That was just my style. But the Rolls Royce was an investment. I never liked a Rolls Royce because they were always grey or black. No pizzazz! But one day I see one on the curb and I like the lines of the car. So I go to the Rolls guy and he goes "nah man you can paint it any color you want." So my first rolls was like this [lifts up his olood cowboy boots] and tan. So the hood was tan and the top and the trunk was tan and the side was burgundy. But something was still missing. So I put the gangsta whitewalls on it. And now it's a Clydemobile. Nobody had ever saw gansta whitewalls on a Rolls Royce.

GQ: So you were repping Jimmy Cagney a little bit.

Walt Frazier: I liked the gangsta style. The thirties. The double-breasted suits and the hats and the cars with the gangsta whitewalls. That's what Clyde was all about.

GQ: So you didn't care what people thought or said?

Walt Frazier: Yeah, like, today a lot of the guys go, he still dresses in the 70s. But I don't dress in the 70s—I gotta a lot of different looks. I got all type of different looks. So that doesn't bother me what they say. Because it's not for me to criticize anybody's wardrobe. I shouldn't. So I don't have anything to say about anybody else either!

GQ: But you do have a look.

Walt Frazier: Yeah, but it's not dated. I have a passion for fashion. I love different colors. Sometimes I watch Turner Classic Movies just for the fashion. See what the guys dress like. I love the styles from that era. And I improvise it for now. My lapel is not as wide as it was then.

GQ: Did getting called Clyde crystallize your style?

Walt Frazier: That became my persona. Off the court, that became my image: "Clyde." Clyde that's how he rolls. You mention Clyde it means style, creativity, cool. That's what comes to mind.

GQ: So you built a brand?

Walt Frazier: Not trying. I never went in a room with my advisors. I was 25 in the greatest city in the world, winning, having a great time.

GQ: But you didn't realize you could make money for it?

Walt Frazier: But I never saw it as "building a brand" as they do today. Everybody is cognizant of it today. Like now I'm trying to keep this brand going, now that I see I have a brand. But when I bought a Rolls Royce I wasn't thinking "this is a brand that's going to set me apart." It was an investment. I always bought Cadillacs. But how far do I go in New York? In two years I got 15,000 miles and the value has dropped! What the hell is this? So the Rolls was a better investment.

GQ: So you were young but not silly.

Walt Frazier: Common sense. Clothes are my only vice. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't gamble. Nothing else that takes my money but clothes.

GQ: When did you start the verbal stylistic flourishes?

Walt Frazier: I started in radio, and in radio the color guy rarely talks. Only when there's a foul or the ball's out of bounds. So the guy I worked with was used to working by himself. So I never got a chance to say anything. He would say, "Right, Walt?" and I'd go "Right!" So what could I do? The first time I got in the business I knew I had to improve my vocabulary. Because I was kind of intimidated. You didn't want to say "You know," or embarrass myself or my family or my friends.

GQ: So you needed a new style in order to get time on air?

Walt Frazier: If a guy's all over the place, "He's ubiquitous." I learned how to get in and jab. I'm like a guerrilla fighter. In and out. Everybody started liking that. But I did get criticized at first. Even my bosses told me to stop rhyming.

GQ: What were some of the drills you did to improve your vocabulary?

Walt Frazier: I used to get the Sunday Times. The Arts and Leisure section, when they critiqued the plays: riveting, mesmerizing, provocative, profound, intoxicating. So I liked the way the words sound. So I have books and books of words and phrases that I write down and study them over and over and over. And when I first start watching the game, I turn the sound off. So I sit and do the game as though I'm doing the game. Whatever you've heard me say during the game I've said hundreds of times, sitting in my living room.

GQ: So it's a decorative art.

Walt Frazier: Yeah, it's like rap the way I do the game. So once you learn words you can rhyme anything. So when I'm on the radio now, this guy's not giving me a chance to say anything, and the Knicks are coming down and they're passing it, I go, "They're dishing and swishing! They're shaking and baking! They're bounding and astounding!" That's all I could get out. Because if I stumble he's going to cut me right off.

GQ: Hip hop has had such an influence on NBA fashion.

Walt Frazier: Precisely. Our idols were the Four Tops and the Temptations. And how did they dress? Suits and ties.

GQ: So there's always been a connection between music and athletics.

Walt Frazier: And that's why these guys dress casual, because that's how the rappers dress. When we came in, the guys were sharp: when Marvin Gaye performed he was in a suit and a tie.

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